and the ghosts came from the chimney,
and the seams beneath the door,
and from you I had a dream worth dreaming,
and those feelings, from before, come when
I’m vulnerable and sleeping,
I remember how we tried —
is it the you that lives your life that’s living,
and the one I knew
that’s died?

2021

bhuail mé le gaeilgeoirí,
mo chairde dhílis – zúm, ar líne!
an Ghaeltacht an Oileáin Úir
bhí fhoilsiú chláir chun muid staidéar.

shuigh mé síos le ríomhaire –
thaitníonn an ghriain taobh amuigh –
ach nuair a d’oscáil mé é lán
bhí fadhb beag le rang agam:

níor thug mé faoi deara roimhe seo
na fuaimeanna a shíneodh!:

tógáil agus tógáilí,
otharchairr, na póilíní,
comharsanna a taobh amuigh
a bpáistí scáirt a béiceann iad;

carranna a toirneach nós,
gluasrothair a bhualadh bos –
éitléain sa spéir,
ghearr fear an féar,
scairtear crainn as’a duilleoga air!

ach ar mo scáileán ríomhaire
bhí oiléan cáirdiúil gaeilgeoirí,
le linn an glór sin as an tsráid,
mo chairde chloistéail mé foighneach;

bhain mé taitneamh leo ainsin,
ach nua-aimsearach a thárla linn:
nuair a muintir, múinteoir caint sa rang,
bhí an domhan iomlán freisin ann.

zúm
2021
written during Tumseachtain Gaeltacht an Oileáin Úir
recited for Daltaí na Gaeilge
Finalist; Highly Commended in the Frances
Brown Multilingual Poetry Competition
Published in the Finn Valley Voice

(read more for English translation and accolades)

Continue reading “”

it’s unobtainable, it’s out of reach,
untouchable, from where i stand,
i’m on my tiptoes; fingers spread; it
spins around again just when i thought i
had it in my hand, and
each time i try; i’d have to climb to get it
down from just so very high —

why do they put the mug i like
up on the top shelf every time?

poetry prompt:
‘the untouchable: something that
will always be out of reach’
2020

i’ve seen this river once before,
i’ve seen this lake,
i’ve seen this shore:
the liffy in the morning sun,
st. lawrence once the day’s begun,
and traveling the world wide,
i found myself along the seine,
remembering the galway bay,
pacific where i used to play,
the train along the hudson ran,
atlantic where my dreams began,
but quiet rivers running deep,
erasing now my memories,
the water sweeping out to sea,
and taking everything –

but me

strasbourg, france
2018

and when I woke that morning through
the window gentle sunlight streamed
upending, blue the blanket, not in shades
of gray as usual in winter bound,
much like the place where sky and
snow meet infinite, for now reflecting
quiet I awake to greet the sun,
missing dearly now so late into November
we were living, but a pause before
that weather we were bound: a taste
a borrowed memory of seasons that
had done and passed;
into that winter now we lapse.

Blank Verse Poetry
2018
Inspired by John Milton